Arms Around Me
by Kurmoi
Summary: AU. On the streets, where everything goes and nothing is sacred, especially not a girl's innocence. However, one little act of kindness is about to change an abandoned girl's life.
1. Tainted Innocence

Well, hi again! This is a new story, and I have no idea where it's going. So… umm… yeah. Hope you enjoy it, all the same!

* * *

She felt so fucking _hopeless._

Lying there on the ground, tending to her wounds as best she could, stemming the flow of blood, telling herself that it couldn't happen again, not to her, never to her.

But she knew that it could. No matter what she did, anything could happen here. For here on the streets, nothing was sacred. Nothing at all, especially her innocence.

So she just lay there, and bled, and cried, not knowing what the fuck to do.

Cried, for her and everybody else stuck on the streets with nowhere else to go.

For her sheer helplessness.

Footsteps echoed in the alleyway. Struggling to her knees, coughing up blood.

The footsteps stopped. Right next to her.

_Fuck._

Tensing, shutting her eyes, waiting for the rough hands to come, throw her on the ground.

But it never happened.

Opening her eyes to see a young teenager kneeling beside her. Obviously notfrom the streets. He had actual _clothes, _as opposed to the telltale rags that the street children wore.

"Are you alright?"

One cough, another, before she could choke out an answer.

"I'm fucking bleeding here. Do I look fucking fine to you?"

"Come back to my house. I can help you get cleaned up."

The words made her freeze. "No fucking way. I fell for that last time. I'm not falling for it again. Don't even think about it."

His eyes widened ever so slightly. "I don't understand what you are talking about."

"Don't act coy! You rich snobs are all the same. Take the kids home, tell them you'll look after them, then take them back and fuck them. I've heard it happen, and it's not going to happen to me, you stupid mother-fucker!"

Sudden sadness swept the boy's face. "I didn't know. If that is the case, then I fully understand if you do not wish to come with me. If you wait here, I will bring some things back to tend your wounds. If you do not wish to wait for me, I will leave them here for you."

_He's being too kind. It can't be genuine._

"What do you want?" she blurted out, wiping the trail of blood snaking down her cheek.

He shook his head, lowering his eyes to stare at the ground. "Nothing. But I could not simply walk past you when you were hurt."

"You're a stupid fuck if you walk through here regularly. Gangs like to hang around the alleyways and bash the shit out of people who go through. Or worse. They'll do it to anybody, you know. Just because you're a guy doesn't mean you're safe here."

Silence. She was about to open her mouth to ask him what he thought of that, before he pushed a crisp white handkerchief into her hands.

"Use that to bandage your wounds. I will be back in a moment, if you will wait for me."

Before she could say anything else, he was gone. One minute he was there, the next minute he simply… wasn't.

_As if he will come back. He just needed an excuse to get away._

Slowly, she tended to her wounds, bandaging the biggest cut with the handkerchief that he had given her, before unsteadily getting to a standing position and dragging herself unceremoniously out of the alleyway without looking back.

The bitter wind was cutting through her pathetic blanket as she curled up beside a few metal trash cans, rain soaking her through. Next to no chance of sleeping there tonight.

Pulling the blanket around her shoulders, she decided to go and check the alleyway. Just to see if that strange boy actually had kept his word and left something there for her. But she would be more careful this time. Nobody could hurt her, this time…

Nobody there. The alleyway was deserted. Nothing there…

Except for a small basket, now wet with the rain. She grabbed it and ran out of the alleyway as fast as she could, before finding a small sheltered corner and settling herself there, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders more tightly and rifling through the contents of the basket.

Some gauze, neatly wrapped in foil. Some packages of food. A bottle of water. And nestled down the bottom, underneath everything else, was a woollen jumper.

She could hardly believe her luck. A woollen jumper. Now she wouldn't freeze over the winter.

As she pulled out the jumper, a piece of paper fell out of the folds of material. Holding it up to the streetlight, she managed to make out some writing.

_54 East Lane_

What did that mean? Was it that boy's house? Or was it left there from a previous use? Or was it a trap, to ambush her?

She wanted to trust the boy, but she couldn't. Even though he had helped her, he could just as easily hurt her. And she would rather die then have _that _happen again…

Now quite warm in her new woollen jumper, despite the biting wind, she curled up under her blanket and fell into a restless slumber.


	2. A Debt Repaid

Wow, long time no update… -sheepish grin-

What's with this whole new ratings thing? I was just getting used to the other one! But anyways… hope you enjoy the chapter… and all the other characters will be making cameos here and there… I hope…!

* * *

The sun shone brightly in greeting to her. How long had she slept? She glanced up at the sun. Probably about seven hours. Pretty good, actually. Even better, she had breakfast. The food that the boy had given her the previous day.

She reached into the basket… to find the food gone.

_Some miserable little fuck has just gone and… oh, I'm going to fucking _kill _them!_

Her stomach moaned in protest as she gathered up her blanket, stuffing it in the basket carelessly. She was still seething. _Fucking gits! Little shit-heads! God-fucking-damn!_

Then she remembered the piece of paper. 54 East Lane. East Lane wasn't too far away from here. It was where the richest of the rich lived. The snobbiest of the snobs. Yet, if it was the boy's address… why had he given her that? He didn't know a thing about her. She could easily murder him and steal his things… and be rich…

_But I wouldn't do that. He's helped me. Might as well just check it out… no harm…_

Carrying the basket on her arm, she walked down to where the corner of East Lane was.

A right posh area if she had ever fucking seen one.

She could bet that their garages were bigger then the shelter she had once called her house. It had been her house, until one of the gangs trashed and burnt it down. Stupid fuckers.

She came to number 54 and stood gaping.

Fuck, it was like a bloody _mansion._

_That lucky little bastard. Stupid rich people. Why can't they ever give money to us? We need it more then they fucking well do._

Could she go up there and ring the doorbell?

And, supposing she did, what was she supposed to go up and say?

Before she could _think _of what to say, the door opened. A man walked out, followed by a young teenager. Yes, it was him! The boy from the previous evening!

"Hey, you, kid…" she began. "I just…"

The boy started; recognition visible in his expression.

Unfortunately, the man wasn't quite so accommodating.

"Who do you think you are? What are you doing on _my _property?"

"Fuck off, old man. I'm not here to talk to you," she spat.

Before the man could yell at her, which, judging by his face, was what he was going to do, the boy jumped in and saved the day.

"Father, please. She's alright."

"How do you know? She's just a little street girl. She could be anything," the man said, squinting suspiciously at her. "And she has bad language."

"I promise you, Father, she is alright."

"Very well…" the man relented, still glaring at her. "You had better be right. Stay here, behave yourself. I will be back in a few hours. And if anything happens to you because of your… acquaintance, then I will have nothing to do with it."

"Yes, Father." The boy bowed his head respectfully.

She stared reproachfully as the sleek convertible backed out of the driveway. "Your father doesn't think much of us street kids, huh?"

"You could say it takes him a while to warm to people he doesn't know…" the boy trailed off, staring into the distance.

For some reason, something about the way he was acting told her to change the subject. "I just wanted to thank you for the stuff yesterday. It was really helpful."

His eyes immediately moved back to lock with hers. "It was no problem. If you need anything, feel free to ask me."

"Who _are _you?" she blurted out eventually. "And why are you helping me? You owe me nothing."

"Nothing, you say…" the boy trailed off for a moment. "Nothing of which you know thus far, at any rate. And my name is Hayate."

_Hayate… Hayate… why does that name sound familiar? It's none of the street kids, that's for sure… so where do I know the name from?_

"Well, hey, Hayate. My name's Ayane. And thankyou again for helping me. I owe you one."

A faint smile appeared on Hayate's face, before disappearing, his expression returning to one of neutrality. "Like I said; no problem at all. And please, if you do need something, tell me."

"Sure thing. See you around."

Hayate suddenly looked hesitant. "Would you like to come in?"

She shook her head. "Nah, I shouldn't. But thanks for the offer."

"Are you sure? Alright, wait here…" he ducked inside the house for a moment, before returning with some fruit. "Take this. Come back whenever you need more food, alright? I don't want to see you starve from stubbornness."

The question came out before she could stop it. "Why do you care so much?"

Silence for a moment. He had frozen. She couldn't even see him breathing.

"A few reasons. Predominantly, though, because my best friend died from being on the streets. I'm not letting anybody else go like that if I can help it." His voice was so soft, fragile. As though if she reached out a hand, she would shatter it into a million pieces.

"So, what? Your best friend was on the streets? But you're, like, a rich snob."

"Things didn't quite happen the way you think," he told her.

Considering she didn't know _what _to think, that was saying something.

"I'm sorry, for what it's worth," she offered finally.

"Thanks," he said, "but it doesn't do much."

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	3. An enigma

I remember I was going to post this chapter earlier, but… I forgot. No, actually; this site was down when I came, and… yeah, then I forgot…

Well, anyway; hope you enjoy the chapter!

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She had nothing else to do for the rest of the day, funnily enough. 

What she'd give to have just a little bit of cash to go shopping or something… but, no.

At least she had a jumper now. This time yesterday, she had been huddling near the trash cans, freezing her ass off. Now she was comfortably warm.

Basket over her arm, she felt like a complete idiot. But hey, at least she had food for a while.

Munching on an apple, she strolled listlessly towards the esplanade, watching people frolic on the beach not too far away.

_How can they go to the beach? It's fucking freezing!_

Discarding the apple core, she walked back towards her trash cans, when suddenly, she heard voices.

They sounded familiar. Horribly familiar.

_Fucking hell. It's them from yesterday. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!_

Ducking behind a large trash can, she peered around it to see what those thugs were up to.

She flinched as she saw them bashing the absolute shit out of a young boy, hardly any older then her. He wasn't putting up any resistance. She pondered over that for a moment and then realised that one of the thugs was twisting the boy's arms behind his back.

_No point in struggling then,_ she thought.

"You bring that purple-haired slut back here by nightfall, okay, kid? Otherwise, you really will be fucked! Understand?"

One last punch and they were gone, walking right past her trash can.

The boy got to his feet deftly yet somewhat gingerly, eyes darting around the alleyway for any signs of movement. He reminded her of a cat, all stealth and agility, despite the brutal beating he had just endured.

Suddenly, his eyes flicked over to where she was. She pulled back and hid further into the shadows immediately, except to no avail.

She had backed herself into a corner when he came around the corner, and simply stood, watching her. She hadn't even heard his footsteps on the gravel.

"Well, what are you waiting for? You just try it. I'll fight you all the way!" she hissed, hastily getting to her feet.

_I won't run. I can't run. Nowhere to go. But I'll be damned if I go down without a fight._

"I don't want to hurt you."

His voice was soft, yet strangely soothing. She readied herself in a fighting stance.

"Not going to happen. I'd rather die before I surrender to the likes of you."

The boy shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Ayane."

_Shit! How the…_

"How the fuck do you know my name?" she exclaimed heatedly.

Silence. He just continued watching her.

Soon, her patience grew thin. "Answer me, you sorry fuck!"

"Go now, before they see you here."

He stepped backwards, once, twice, completely freeing her path.

_What… but… wasn't he working with _them_? Didn't they want me captured? And he's just letting me go? What a… wait, maybe I should just go while I still have the chance…_

"Why are you letting me go?"

She stared into the boy's eyes, trying to find out something, anything about him. In those eyes there seemed to be sincerity, but…

"My friend would never forgive me if I did not. Please, go, and speak of this incident to nobody."

Suddenly, for no logical reason, Hayate's words entered her mind, bouncing around. _My best friend died from being on the streets… _

She took a single step forward, towards the boy. "Who's your friend?"

"You must go. As must I. Farewell."

Before she could say anything, the boy seemed to vanish into thin air. Like Hayate had the previous evening. One minute they were there, the next minute they simply… weren't.

_How the fuck does anyone do that!_

As she walked away, she turned back to stare back at the alleyway. That boy… he _had_ been there. His blood still stained the gravel ground. But that was the only sign he had actually been there. Talk about an enigma.

And as she curled up, as far away from those trash cans as she could possibly get, all she could think about was _how _he knew her name, exactly.

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End file.
